New (School) Year

I'm taking another fiction writing class this semester (yeah!) but I can't work on Willowwacks there (boo!). But here's a beginning assignment that we have to do (we actually have to do three and two will be stories that we will work on through out the semester). Enjoy and I'll try and update this more frequently with assignments from class, Willowwacks work (if I'm able to get around to it), or even some Stacy bits here and there.

Happy reading :)

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It was still early for the pleather green seats in Madhouse to be full of college kids wanting to booze up their night or business suits wanting to distress from the office, but Callum still walked through the paint chipped door and sat in front of the bartender cleaning out glasses. “A Manhattan.” Callum sighed, kneading his eyes with his left palm and slumping over the bar top. His shoulders pulled at the seams along the light blue dress shirt, his jacket forgotten on the bar top beside his elbow. Callum still favored his right shoulder even though it had been three months since he was shot out on the field it was still in a sling.

“Tough day C?” Jason, the bartender, asked while he finished pouring the bourbon and vermouth drink into a cocktail glass.

Grasping the mouth of the stemware Callum swung back, downing half of the amber-red concoction before answering Jason. “My first day back and all I had to do was paperwork and I’m still exhausted.”

Jason chuckled and picked up the dishrag again. His tattooed arm began wiping off the top, collecting crumbs from carvings people drew into the worn wood. “I guess that’s what happens when you get yourself shot.”

Rubbing his hand through the short-cropped, auburn hair Callum grunted. “This wasn’t what I thought one of the perks of being a “hero” would’ve been.” He downed the rest of his Manhattan and fished out the maraschino cherry from the bottom of the glass, popping the steam off between his teeth.

Eyeing the empty cocktail glass, Jason quirked an eyebrow at his dejected friend. “Should I make you another?”

Shaking his head Callum chewed on the stem, “Really shouldn’t. Back to papers and filling out forms again tomorrow. Don’t want a hangover on my second day.”

“You are off the clock right man?” Jason asked, taking the empty cocktail glass and moving it to a bin under the bar for dirty dishes. “Can’t have my bartending license revoked now.” Jason chuckled, throwing the rag onto his shoulder and palming the bar top. “I guess it would be funny if you arrested me though right? Ha! Could you even do that?”

Callum’s mouth tilted up a bit causing the cherry stem to point at Jason. “No, I clocked out. No worries man.”

“Good, good,” Jason smiled his long face pulling up a bit when he did so. “I’ll go ask Shae if he could throw on a burger for you.”

Callum didn’t respond when Jason went into the kitchen to place the order. Once gone, Callum sunk into himself. Every moment he relived the shooting. His dreams were the worst though; his subconscious would shift the events, causing them to be more terrible then what they truly were. He wasn’t even a certified cop until eleven months ago, not even a full year before getting a bullet to his shoulder. Getting shot, even though it wasn’t an injury that was too serious, still shook Callum up when he thought about it. He didn’t like doing paper work but the idea of going back out into the streets of Buffalo now was more terrifying. It wouldn’t take long until Officer Morrison ordered Callum to take a psyche evaluation.

Jason came back out when Callum was reliving the incident and placed the cooked burger in front of the pensive officer. “Hey Cal,” Jason said in a somber voice, leaning in front of Callum to look up into his downturned eyes, “it’s going to be alright. You know that right?”

Callum didn’t know if anything would be alright but he forced a false smile on his face, “Yeah,” and grabbed his burger taking a large bite out of it so he wouldn’t have to talk to Jason about it further.

The door to Madhouse opened again welcoming a new customer. They sat one seat down from Callum, “What ‘cha got on tap limbs?” a female voice asked. Her voice was rich and warm, like honey. Looking over Callum saw a mass of dark hair, curling in every way. She looked over at him, her nose twitching a bit and pointed to his mouth “You got some on your face there sugah.”

Jason barked, “Here ya’ go man.” And handed a napkin to Callum.

Turing forward again Callum wiped his face, a glob of mayo and ketchup smearing across the folded paper product.

“I’m Nina,” the woman says, scorching over to sit beside Callum.

“Callum Gentry.”

Jason placed a pint of Budweiser in front of Nina and took her order of hot wings into the back. Callum didn’t say anything else.

After taking a long draft from her glass Nina turned towards Callum, her knee knocking against his trouser-clad leg. “Not much of a talker are you?”

“…”

“Ooo-kay then. So, how’d you get your arm hammock?”

Callum placed his burger down and waved two fingers at Jason to get him to bring over a glass of water. But Jason answered for him while placing the water in front of Callum’s half eaten burger.